Discovery

62.

The Quidditch Match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor was arriving quickly. Quidditch practices were almost daily, but the team was still struggling due to the absences of Harry and the twins.

One evening, I sat in the common room with Harry and Hermione, working diligently on my Astronomy homework. After about thirty minutes, the twins entered, and I no longer had the motivation to stay focused.

"Ron and Ginny not here?" asked Fred, looking around as he pulled up a chair and, when Harry shook his head, he said, "Good. We were watching their practice. They're going to be slaughtered. They're complete rubbish without us."

"Come on, Ginny's not bad," said George, sitting down next to Fred. "Actually, I dunno how she got so good, seeing how we never let her play with us..."

"We've been breaking into the broom shed in the garden since the age of six and taking each of your brooms out in turn when you weren't looking," I said dully. "Can't believe you haven't noticed by now."

"Oh," said George, looking mildly impressed. "Well — that'd explain it."

"Doesn't explain how you're still rubbish, though." Fred teased.

"Has Ron saved a goal yet?" asked Hermione, peering over the top of her Ancient Ruins book.

"Well, he can do it if he doesn't think anyone's watching him," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "So all we have to do is ask the crowd to turn their backs and talk among themselves every time the Quaffle goes up his end on Saturday."

He got up again and moved restlessly to the window, staring out across the dark grounds.
"You know, Quidditch was about the only thing in this place worth staying for."

My heart began to ache. Wasn't I worth staying for?

Hermione cast him a stern look.

"You've got exams coming! And more importantly—" she glanced at me.

"—Told you already, we're not fussed about N.E.W.T.s," said Fred.

"The Snackboxes are ready to roll..." George yawned widely and looked out disconsolately at the cloudy night sky. "I dunno if I even want to watch this match. If Zacharias Smith beats us I might have to kill myself."

"Kill him, more like," said Fred firmly.

"That's the trouble with Quidditch," said Hermione absentmindedly, once again bent over her Rune translation, "it creates all this bad feeling and tension between the Houses."
She looked up and caught Fred, George, and Harry looking at her with expressions of incredulity on their faces. "Well, it does!" she said impatiently. "It's only a game, isn't it?"

"Hermione," said Harry, shaking his head, "you're good on feelings and stuff, but you just don't understand about Quidditch."

"Maybe not," she said darkly, returning to her translation again, "but at least my happiness doesn't depend on Ron's goalkeeping ability."

Hermione and Harry went back to their homework, but I couldn't bear to be down there with Fred any longer. My eyes were welling up with tears, and they slowly started slipping down my cheeks and onto my parchment.

The twins looked at me and their expressions quickly changed from relaxed to panicked.

"Ella, what's wrong?" Fred asked, and suddenly everyone was staring at me.